Broken
by twinkle.exe
Summary: There's only so far someone can go before they reach their breaking point. After all, it's not wise to love during war. That's playing with fire— eventually it'll burn you, and eventually love will stab you in the back. Both will leave only pain behind...


_Refreshing: The first leaf-fall breeze whistling past your whiskers, tingling the roots of your fur and pounding in your bones_

It was a golden morning, full of laughter and Clanmates playing, sharing tongues, chattering and joking. The day had dawned soft and gentle, sneaking up on RiverClan under cover of desaturated blue clouds before bursting into light the way a berry explodes into sweet juice when you bite down on it. No cat seemed to run out of energy; exhilarated breaths were quickly replaced with new, fresh adrenaline.

Senior warriors, usually stout and strict, were smiling and romping around like children. Even the dignified, authoritative trio— their leader Willowstar, deputy Flashclaw, and medicine cat Lilysong were joining in the fun. Apprentices and kits' eyes widened and shone with excitement— it was their first leaf-fall, after all, and they'd never seen their Clan this alive.

Doepaw was one of these wonderstruck 'paws. She was barely aware of the heavy puffs of air coming out of her open mouth as she bounded over to the group of sleek, tussling felines.

 _Whoever thought of celebrating the start of leaf-fall was a genius!_ was the cream tabby's last thought before she got caught up in the whirlwind of playfighting in the very center of camp. Freshwater salmon migrating upstream was enough to be happy. Spending a whole day off duty just to celebrate that?

 _Awesome! I can't wa—_ Doepaw gasped as she was suddenly pinned by one of the wrestling cats, feeling a warm pelt press against hers.

"Gotcha!" A broad, gray face, grinning cockily peered into hers. Brown eyes met blue. The tackled apprentice barely registered who it was before she freed a hind leg to kick her attacker —carefully, to avoid injury— and flipped them over.

" _I_ got _you_ ," she retorted.

The gray cat lifted his head, sapphire eyes bright. He misjudged the distance between them, causing their muzzles to bump. Doepaw blinked and got up, sitting down with a plop and hoping she didn't look too ruffled, not by the surprise or the physical contact.

"Stormy?"

"The one and only." He also sat down, flicking his white-tipped with the grin still on his face.

"I wouldn't put it past _you_ to attack a helpless little she-cat," Doepaw teased. Stormtuft was known for being a rascallion of sorts; he certainly wasn't worshipped for his good behavior.

"Me, do such a thing?" The tom looked mock-outraged. "I'm a warrior, fair and true!" He straightened his spine, head lifted majestically, waiting for a reply that might lead to a nice, satisfying banter that'd last for hours.

 _Battle: When you ambush your skilled best friend, aiming to succeed, to win and be able to boast_

"Well, I'm not." The cream apprentice threw herself at her kithood friend in a less than split second after her cheeky reply, puffing out her fur to look twice her size and throw him off balance.

"You little—!" Stormtuft spluttered as he fell to the ground once more. Doepaw bopped his nose with a sheathed, dark ginger paw.

"I win" was the only thing the she-cat said, though inwardly her pride was spilling everywhere. Her friend, albeit young, wasn't the easiest enemy to take down.

Stormtuft gave a huff of annoyance. "Okay, okay." He flicked a tufted ear that he'd been given his warrior name for. Doepaw stepped off of him and he stretched before getting comfortable on the grass. "Told you celebration day would be fun."

"You?" she snorted. "You were born _on_ the last celebration day!"

"And I remember it."

"Ha-ha, no."

"Why not?" The gray tom looked insulted.

"You didn't even open your eyes when you were born, let alone remember anything!"

"As if you would know, you were born a whole moon after me!"

They went back and forth, arguing in mindless circles that sated both cats' thirst for debate.

 _Surprise: Feeling something you shouldn't, something that will ruin a relationship but maybe, maybe lead to a better one_

The sun rose and was never covered by a single wisp of mist on that delightful leaf-fall day, bleeding its colors into the firmament as it sank once more. Orange and pink mingled with the slightest hints of lavender, making for a beautiful sunset.

"We have lots of work to do tomorrow, with catching as much salmon as we can before they disappear upstream," Stormtuft told Doepaw. His voice was quieter than usual— were his ears crooked from embarrassment? "Best to get some sleep." Perhaps that was regret in his voice...

"I want to see the moon rise," the apprentice replied with equal carefulness, voice a mere whisper. She left out two words that ached to get out but would make things too awkward between the both of them.

 _With you._

Later they might look back on their very first leaf-fall celebration, and they'd both know. It was where their friendship had ended and something new blossomed, something deeper and harder to explain.

 _This is where we fell in love._

 _Time: Flying past your life like it's a game, the world so monotone and yet filled with color, but you forget it all one day_

Doestep. That was her new name, the one she'd wear until the rest of her life unless she became leader— though she didn't really have the fire in her belly for that, so Doestep it would remain.

They cheered for her, the Clanmates she'd grown up with. The familiar voice of Stormtuft was loudest of all, as if he'd been trying to make up for the missing voices, her parents. The cream she-cat lifted her head high, brown eyes flashing as a snippet of lust for revenge flitted through her mind. She calmed herself and smoothed her fur.

 _Thank you, RiverClan._

Willowstar dipped her head and allowed the cats to disperse. Doestep scanned the clearing for a gray pelt and found it just as the owner's blue eyes latched onto her own.

"Hey, Stormy," the tabby greeted, trying to act casual and friendly even though her heart was leaping from her chest. Finally— two extra moons later— they were together again. Warriors.

"Doe _step_!" Stormtuft made no move to hide his obvious delight. "Finally!" His voice hushed the slightest bit, filling with mock-grandeur. "Now it'll happene: Stormtuft and Doestep, _great_ _warriors_ of the River, _battling the odds_ and helping their Clan _thrive_..."

The she-cat squashed a laugh. "I think," she purred, losing the stiffness of her demeanor and boldly brushing his flank with her tail, "you mean Doestep and her loyal _second-in-command_ , whose name isn't important enough to mention."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, now, Doe. We all know the top cat is yours tru—" Stormtuft was abruptly cut off by a deeper growl.

"Currently, the 'top cat' is Willowstar, and I'm her deputy." Flashclaw sniffed at the two, ginger-and-white tail lashing. "And I say that just because Doestep finally got over whatever scarring trauma she went through and became a warrior today doesn't mean either of you get time off. Stormtuft, join the patrol." The tom dipped his head submissively and padded over to the group— Blackpetal, Whitefoot, and Mouseclaw— stealing a quick, unruly eye-roll at Doestep.

As for you—" The tom glared at her with sharp green eyes. "Go fishing."

Doestep cringed under his gaze. She knew that there were a few cats in RiverClan who weren't too fond of her; ever since that disastrous last battle with ThunderClan, she'd been inconsolable over the death of both her parents, Firethorn and Graywhisker.

 _And that's why I became a warrior at fourteen moons instead of twelve. But so what? At least I didn't get held back for being an awful apprentice! I passed all my assessments, I just needed time to heal!_

Which was almost word-for-word what Lilysong had said in her defense when any cat bullied her when she was in the medicine cat den. They'd scoffed at her for being so weak, but they hadn't seen their kin die right before their eyes within five heartbeats of each other.

As she thought all of this in her defense, Doestep's paws carried her gracefully towards the river. She passed the patrol Stormtuft had joined. Both the experienced warriors— not yet senior, but not exactly new— looked disapprovingly at her, though in the same way they'd treat anyone else misbehaving. Stormtuft himself was staring into space. Mouseclaw, however, glanced at her and gave a small smile. She didn't think twice, grateful for the slight support, before returning the gesture for the briefest of moments. Then she moved on.

 _Travel: Trudging from camp to your destination, wrapped up in your musing all the while_

The river sloshed and rippled in erratic rhythms, beating gelid splashes of water against the shore. Leaf-bare was most certainly coming. The riverbanks were darker and more liquid than solid, sticking to Doestep's legs as she got closer. The she-cat shivered— not because of the mud, but because of how so very cold it was. Water-sounds sang from the almost-frozen stream:

 _Shhlooooop-plop!_

 _Shaarrrrrrrrrrrashhhhh!_

The she-cat hovered a tail-length away from the source of the noises, ears pricked and tail erect. She eyed it warily before moving further along the river, where the pond usual full of carp was. _Maybe I'll have better luck there. There probably isn't any fish in these rough waters._

Luckily for Doestep, the pool upstream was indeed calmer, though perhaps even more freezing. The tabby unsheathed her claws, using her hind feet to dig into the muck surrounding the pool. The sun's position, hiding behind thick billows of dark, mundane clouds, was in her favor.

A flickering shadow caught her eye. The cream cat held her breath and dove headfirst into the water, tightening her two-pawed grip on the earth.

And then she was underwater, where everything was calm and quiet; she couldn't hear a single wave of fluid, though a few were undoubtedly pounding against the dirt above. Doestep's jaw opened wide, moving slowly as it fought against the pressing force of the water. The muddled silhoutte of the fish she'd dived for became clearer so that she could see every single unique scale glinting in the slight bit of sunlight.

Liquid was filling her ears. Though she wasn't yet out of breath, she'd need to make this fast.

With a simple swift twist of her head, Doestep's mouth was right where the fish— a bass, not a carp, evidently— was about to swim to make its escapade. She felt something hard and slippery brush past her teeth. _Now!_ The she-cat bit down, careful not to bite so heavily that she'd mangle her kill.

As it turned out, it wasn't heavy. In fact, quite the opposite.

Doestep gave a surprised yelp as the prey swam right past her weak hold, flicking its tail past her nose as if taunting her. Her lungs ached for air, but she couldn't lose the fish! It had taken a long time for the entire fish to get past her muzzle; the bass was obviously a huge one.

After a short internal battle — go up? Stay down?—, the she-cat finally came up. Her heart pounded and she sneezed out water before letting go of the ground her hind paws had still managed to hang on to, running fast enough to beat the fish to as far as RiverClan territory stretched. Shining liquid flicked off her pelt and swirled away into the air.

Then she waited, praying to the heavens that she hadn't lost it. Her wish appeared to have been heard, for the familiar shape of the StarClan-forsaken fish was coming her way. Doestep growled deep in her throat, wet flanks heaving as she drew in influx upon influx of oxygen, waiting for just the right moment, and leapt completely— nose to tail— into the river once more.

She landed square on the bass.

It wriggled with a ferocity that might even match its angry hunter's, flipping and flopping. Doestep grimaced as the slimy fish tickled her pawpads and managed to pin its tail down. She lowered her head and grabbed it, eyes widening at its size and weight, then resurfaced for the last time. There the she-cat crushed the now-fresh-kill's spine with a definitely fatal blow.

 _Travel: Bringing back the prize you gained on your journey, battered and tired but still proud_

It was already dusk by the time Doestep had got back to camp. The bass was the only thing she brought back, but it really was enormous, bigger than a a two-moon old kitten.

The tabby deposited her catch on the fish pile, noting that all the other fish were smaller than hers— mainly minnows and perch, a carp here or there. Flashclaw seemed to have noticed her return. He eyed her and the prey the way one would eye moss gathered by a clumsy apprentice.

"It's a good catch," the deputy said gruffly, and Doestep fell the slightest sense of achievement before he added, "but only a lucky one. You'll have to keep it up or it means very little.

"Also, try not too go for a swim next time. Lilysong's saving up catmint for cats with greencough, she shouldn't have to waste it on a cold."

 _But you don't treat colds with catmint_ , Doestep thought, biting her tongue to keep the words safe in her head. She returned Flashclaw's critical gaze with her own defiant one. He sniffed in distaste and stalked away.

Doestep swung her head around, brown eyes searching once more for Stormtuft. His patrol should've ended by now, yet she saw no sign of him...

"That was a fat fish. It's a shame we can't share it..." came a hum from behind her, warm breath tickling the back of her neck. There was a jolt in Doestep's chest as she turned around, bristling, only to sigh heavily as she saw the cat she'd been looking for in the first place.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Not my fault you're so cute when you're surprised" was his response. Doestep felt herself heat up and she ducked her head, glancing up at him. It appeared to only have augmented the "cute" effect, because now Stormtuft was choking on very untomly giggles.

She decided for a change of personality— _anything_ not to be called that word!— and snickered at his reaction before switching topics. "Why can't we share it?"

"Flashie would have our tails if we didn't offer it to the elders first."

It was Doestep's turn to chuckle at the other's lack of formality. "He'd have _your_ tail if he heard you calling him that."

Stormtuft snorted. "No, he'd set it on fire, shove me in the river to put it out, rinse and repeat, and then murder me in my sleep." He squinted suddenly, looking at her still-soaked cream tabby pelt. "Fish gave you trouble?"

"What do you think?" She nudged him playfully, leaving a dark spot on his shoulder where they touched. He glared at her with the same amount of mischief, licking down the fur that was sticking up from the bump.

"I think we should save the talk for after we get this monster catch to its destination."

Doestep opened her mouth to reply an agreement when suddenly a brown pelt brushed past hers none too subtly. Her paws stumbled, her fur bristling as she sidestepped away from the source.

"Doe!" Both the she-cat and gray tom glared at the third cat for using the latter's special nickname. "That was a great catch! Wanna share?"

Mouseclaw. She wasn't sure when the young warrior had started being annoying, but he was getting in her fur almost every single time she talked with Stormtuft, which was often. Very often.

"No." Doestep's voice was sharper than need be, so she softened it when she saw him flinch. "This is for the elders."

"Ah." The tom seemed to undergo a strange change in his style of speech. "The elders have served RiverClan well. I don't look forward to the day when it's their turn to join StarClan..."

The she-cat barely had a change to register how weird those two sentences were before she felt a sharp jab in her head and jerked it up, shaking it to try and get rid of the feeling. Her ears rung—

 _Shut up, Roseheart! This isn't you speaking, it's a lovestruck tom, stupid!_ The words seemed to come from her, but it wasn't spoken out loud. It was also rougher than her voice; a tom's most likely. Confusion bubbled in her.

 _Sorry, sorry._ The meek reply was in her head as well, but it had originated elsewhere. _But it's not like you're better than me. You can barely get yours to talk to him._

 _Just... shut up._ "Her" again— or the tom, depending on which way she thought about it.

Doestep snapped back to reality. No time at all seemed to have passed.

Mouseclaw looked like the perfect definition of disappointed; face falling, eyes downcast, tail and whiskers drooping. The she-cat felt a twinge of sympathy and was about to offer to eat something else with him after the prey was delivered before changing her mind. She'd already been planning on eating with Stormtuft— speaking of, the gray cat's fur was moving in uneasy motions; not yet angry, just more of a warning. There was obvious tension between him and the other tom.

The harsh voice she'd heard gave a rough hiss of frustration.

 _What_ are _you?!_ Doestep's question wasn't spoken out loud, but the voice heard it. Apparently it was inside her mind too. There was a sharp sucking sound, as if it'd breathed in.

 _She can hear me she can hear me oh great stars no no no no this is bad this is bad_

 _What in the world are you talking about, Emberfur?_ There was the other tone, the one that had apologized earlier. _Roseheart_ , Doestep remembered.

 _SHE CAN HEAR US, ROSEHEART!_ the cream she-cat's voice— Emberfur— screeched.

And then everything was silent.

"Doestep. Doe. You okay?" Stormtuft's low meow broke through the eerie hush in Doestep's mind. She shook herself, spraying droplets of water.

"I'm... I'm okay."

Mouseclaw had scuttled away to where ever; she didn't care too terribly much for the details. The gray tom was obviously skeptical but didn't push the matter further. _Thank StarClan._ "Let's go!" He hid his suspicion— not very well, since she could easily sense it— under an upbeat façade.

Both cats lunged for the bass's tail at the same time, at such an angle that their muzzles bumped. Doestep recoiled, fedging a sense of déjà vu, and moved to heft up the head without a word.

The journey to the elders' den was a short one, as was the interaction in there —"thank you, thank you, now go on ahead and do whatever it is you young'uns do these days"— and the shared meal afterwards. The quiet was almost unbearable, pressing down between them and suffocating them with glee.

"What's wrong?" Stormtuft finally asked, settling down after he'd eaten his fill.

What could she say? That there were crazy voices in her head? He'd think _she_ was the wacky one, that was for sure.

"Just a dizzy spell" was her careful, hopefully-nonchalant reply after a few moments of thought. After all, that wasn't a lie— her vision was getting blurry at the edges.

"Do you need to see Lilysong?"

"No, no, I'm fine." After a heartbeat, she added, "It's all cleared up now." Which it hadn't— in fact, quite the opposite. Doestep prayed that she wouldn't be getting a migraine, though that was unlikely; her head was throbbing harder than it ever had before and she was feeling more than slightly loopy.

"It's getting dark. I'll take these—" he flicked his tail towards the remnants of their minnows— "to the dirtplace and meet you in the _warriors'_ den." Why had he put emphasis on that word? Oh, she'd nearly forgotten— she was no longer Doepaw today, but Doestep.

"I can help," the she-cat insisted, fighting hard to keep the slur out of her voice.

Stormtuft gave her an almost-bored look, a feline eyebrow slightly raised, that could be interpreted two ways; _Really?_ or possibly _Don't even try._ Either way, when the fifteen-moon-old warrior started giving out those looks, he was not to be argued with.

So Doestep went to the den, stumbling around until she found an empty nest that smelled of reed and a bit of moss, not cat.

Perhaps the time it took him was shorter than it had felt, but by the time the tabby felt a warm, thick-furred body nestled next to her, she was seeing stars.

She felt a tongue rasp over her forehead and gave in to the comfort, purring softly as Stormtuft groomed her to sleep. It may have been the headache that still pestered her, or being made a warrior and his equal, or the absence of something that had caused her to keep her mouth shut, but she murmured something bleary with sleep, softly, so he had to prick his ears to hear.

"Hey... you know... I think I... love ya, Stormy..." It was with wooziness that she made a confession she wouldn't regret.

She might have been already asleep and dreaming, or so far gone that she was hallucinating, but she thought she heard him whisper back a reply.

"I love you too."

 _Time: It won't stop for anyone, not even the most powerful StarClan warrior or the most cruel, fear-inducing leader_

A snarl of frustration sliced through the foggy atmosphere, making Roseheart flinch. Her star-shrouded, once-white pelt shivered as if there were a breeze.

"How? _How?_ " the tom before her snapped, raking the air with ghostly claws. "The barrier broke! That's never happened before in the history of possession!"

The spirit she-cat didn't respond, paws twitching. After being in control of Mouseclaw's actions for so long, living with him in a way, she felt a strange emptiness when she wasn't with him. If her fellow possessor felt the same way about Doestep, he didn't show it.

"And then, since she could hear us, we had to leave the bodies and let them have their own free will!" Emberfur lashed his tail with a furious passion that could rival the entire Dark Forest. "I wouldn't be surprised if those two forsaken lovebirds have already confessed to each other about their stupid undying love! Great stars, I wouldn't be surprised if your little weakling of a warrior has gone to kill himself!"

Roseheart's pale eyes flashed, the slightest hint of menace glowing in them before disappearing like smoke in the wind. "Mouseclaw isn't weak! Who confined herself to the medicine cat den for two whole moons after the death of her parents?"

The tabby, ginger in his lifetime, leered at her. He looked as if he was going to rant on about his own she-cat, but then set his jaw. "We didn't come here to fight and waste time."

She sniffed, still sore. "Barrier repair should be easy enough. I'm only afraid of the cats themselves. Doestep, Mouseclaw, and Stormtuft all have strong wills."

Emberfur's gaze darkened at the mention of the gray tom. "That cursed creature," he growled. "It's because of him that we had to do this."

"We've had to possess the living before in the past."

"Not like this. All we had to do was give the shy ones a little push or the hotheaded ones a moment to cool down, that's all. But Doestep and _that one_. They're smitten."

Orb met orb and they knew they were thinking the same thing:

 _He was supposed to die._

"If we don't do something soon, River's going to kill us," the tom continued. Roseheart winced. That comment was to be taken literally.

"But I still don't understand... Why would the potential children of Doestep and Mouseclaw be so important?"

"There's nothing to understand." Despite the hardness of Emberfur's tone, he looked ruffled, as if the she-cat's word had sparked a few flames of doubt in his mind. "Fate decreed it, and nothing could possibly go against Fate."

"Fate's grip on the world is weakening. The one that should've been stillborn is alive. The ones who should be falling in love hate each other."

"Don't!" Emberfur gave his signature, snake-like hiss. "Don't disrespect Fate!"

 _What even is Fate?_ Roseheart found herself wondering, wordlessly so the other wouldn't throw a fit. _If I didn't know better, I'd think it was just a nursery tale..._ And maybe she really _didn't_ know better, because Fate was certainly starting to sound like one.

She pressed her paw on the pale, light-dappled ground until it grew moist and then became a puddle, wavelets shimmering across it. It displayed a blue-gray she-cat curling around two tiny bodies, the black one aquiver as it suckled in the cold leaf-fall morning, the gray other still as ice. The queen was opening her jand in a mournful cry, licking again and again at the gray one.

"That was what was supposed to happen," the tabby peering over her shoulder muttered, his mew bitter. "But..." Emberfur touched the pool's surface with a delicate paw. It rippled and cleared to show the same female, this time with a gentle feline smile curving at the edges of her muzzle as she watched her single kit— the gray one— yelp and tussle around with an invisible enemy on the earth.

"Sootkit turned out to be... nonexistent," Roseheart whispered. "And Stormkit lived."

"The theories say that her heart merged with her littermate's and pumped life into him," the StarClan cat said with a small sigh. "But I think..." His voice lowered, as if he were unsure— a rare thing for the dead warrior to be.

"...I think someone who's supposed to be in the Dark Forest is here."

"You can't mean—!"

"Someone we know tore the barrier. Someone we know..." Emberfur was nearly trembling at how heavy this hypothesis was. This was something major; a cat with their power could change Fate altogether and throw the Clans into turmoil. Roseheart pressed against him as support, and he didn't push her away. She finished the sentence for him:

"Someone we know brought Stormtuft back to life."

 _Surprise: There are lives inside of you... there are lives inside of you, your children-to-be, now you're a mother and what can you do_

Lilysong's tranquil blue eyes met Doestep's own brown, piercing through her as if she could see the tumbling emotions inside the cream tabby.

"You're expecting kits. Congratulations. I believe Stormtuft is the father?"

The twenty moon old gave a quick nod, confirming what everyone probably expected. Her insides were churning— from the kittens or herself, she wasn't sure.

It wasn't that she didn't want children. In fact, she and the gray tom had been planning this out ever since that night. They'd become mates, pushed their nests together to make it one for sharing, and even come up with a few names in the case that they started a family.

"Go on, tell him. I find that being as active as one usually is for the first half-moon is beneficial to the kits. After that, you'll have to retire to the nursery for the next seven and a half." The old medicine cat looked sympathic.

Doestep would have bounded out and run towards her mate, but she remembered just in time to step carefully for the lives in her belly. She didn't have to search far; Stormtuft was right in the center of camp, a frown on his face. A flicker of curiousity added itself to the mix of feelings the queen-to-be currently had.

"Stormy." She placed herself in front of him, sitting down awkwardly and curling her tail around her paws, studying his dark gaze. Something was definitely off.

"Oh! Doestep." The shadowed look turned to worry. "Is everything okay? Just a stomach bug?"

She smiled weakly. "One that lasts for two moons."

"One that— oh!" Stormtuft's blue eyes rounded and softened. "Oh. Is that what I think it is?"

"Well, what do you think it is?" Doestep ran her tail along his flank, causing him to twitch a whisker. The tom purred, the slightest hint of wryness in it.

"Looks like we'll have to get serious with those kit names. I don't think Oppositeofstormkit will be appreciated by Willowstar. Or anyone, for that matter."

The name, which had sprung not too long ago in one of their lighthearted discussions, made the tabby utter an amused noise as she recalled it. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe he'll live up to his name and grow _big_ and _strong_ , enough to take on the whole of ThunderClan!"

Stormtuft scoffed and rolled his eyes, muttering "as if" in a playful tone under his breath. But despite that, Doestep could see the same darkness flickering in his sapphire orbs just like before.

"What happened?"

"I went on a patrol."

"I can smell that." The she-cat caught a whiff of forest on his pelt. "Were you close to the border?"

He gave a small hiss in response, fur spiking the slightest bit. "No. Well, on Sunningrocks."

"Then how—"

"That flea-ridden Clan crossed our borders! On to our territory!"

Doestep flinched as if she was the victim of the tom's absolute rage. Stormtuft wasn't easily upset, but if something struck a nerve, he was the type to sulk and ignore, maybe "accidentally" tripping the offender a time or two.

But before this, her mate was never one to rant or spew insults.

"It's happened before," she mewed, struggling to keep how truly shaken she was out of her voice. "Why the fuss this time, of all the times?"

"Guess which one of those _scum_ were lounging about in our territory."

"No..."

Her response was a breath of a disbelieving word as she took another sniff, shimmering with " _it can't be_ "s and " _why?_ "s. Black pupils dilated in horror, and then she was cracking, cracking, cracking...

"Stop. Doe. Calm down."

 _You're one to talk._ In between her weak, exposed emotional crevices oozed venom; black with hatred, dark as a night with no moon nor stars. It bubbled furiously with anger and seeped from the darkest parts of her broken mind into everything that had remained untouched by its poison all those moons ago.

Stormtuft was pressing against her, perhaps because he thought she needed support, but she tore herself away, refusing to touch the pelt that was intoxicated with strands of scent from her parents' killer. Firethorn... Graywhisker... Killed in the same swipe.

"Tell me exactly what happened," she demanded, voice an out of character growl. Her mate was apparently not the only one to change personalities today. She wasn't sure why she'd asked anyways, as the extra details probably wouldn't change a thing. But still she needed to know.

 _Where is he? Let me kill him. Let me kill his family and all he ever cared for._

"So I went on a patrol with Whitefoot and Duskheart. We were originally going to go hunting, but this year's green-leaf was generous to us, you know, plenty of fish, and so we decided not to catch more than we could eat— it'd be a waste if the food spoiled. Then we went to Sunningrocks to check the border and do something useful besides hunting, we didn't want Flashstar to kill us."

Doestep lashed her tail. She wasn't interested in that information.

"And we went there, of course, and... there's not much beyond that that you don't know. Pineclaw was just _laying_ there with the stupid smug look on his face."

That was her Stormy— doing exactly what she asked him too, even if he knew that it would probably result in making her even angrier. Which it did.

The malice spilled.

All the built-up sobs and screeches that were never uttered, the days staring against a wall in the medicine cat den hoping it would blow up simply because she wanted someone to _die_ , the two and a half moons spent as a shell made its reappearance in the form of sludgy black toxin that pooled around her paws.

Choking.

Dying.

And no one saw it.

She tried to stop and think practically. She'd seen him at Gatherings before, many times, so why was this the trigger when this time she hadn't even seen him with her own eyes?

It didn't matter _..._

A kick jolted Doestep straight out of her funk. The she-cat wasn't sure when kits started moving— she was pretty sure that it wasn't right away, which meant that she hadn't discovered her pregnancy at the beginning of it.

 _I'm okay. I'm okay. I_ have _to be okay for my children._

"So what happened next?"

"We chased him out, of course. Duskheart went to Flashstar. What do you think he'll say...?"

Doestep winced. The grumpy, harsh deputy had become a leader after Willowstar fell to the poison of greencough— all because ThunderClan hadn't let Lilypool gather catmint from the usual spot. The now-deceased leader's last order had been to back away from the potential fight over the precious herbs, although RiverClan was _clearly_ in the right.

"He'll want revenge..."

"And rightfully so. Those scumbags have taken more lives than we can count."

A cold shiver rippled down the she-cat's spine, freezing her insides with terror. _And how many more dead will there be by the end of this whole war? How many cats, names lost to the time, will have fallen?_

Stormtuft pricked his ears as the sound of light pawsteps pattered into the background noise. The cream tabby watched as her mate tilted his head wordlessly at Duskheart, who had just emerged from Flashstar's den. There was a question in his eyes, a question that Doestep also desperately wanted to know the answer to.

The quick nod and flash of fear in Duskheart's eyes settled it.

 _We're going to avenge our warriors in StarClan._

 _Battle: It's no nursery game when the sounds of war are thrumming through our warriors' hearts and they know that they're going to die, die, die_

Camp was void of any sound; it could have been the dark, heavy aura of dread that hung over the remaining cats. It could have been the lack of warriors, who had all traveled to combat. It could have been that everyone was lost in their own thoughts, or that any spoken word was getting drowned out by the harsh leaf-fall storm.

 _Leave it to Flashstar to send his cats out to ambush a dangerous enemy in the middle of a huge storm because "RiverClan will have the advantage in water"._ Doestep scoffed at the memory of her leader's words, but even that prickle of contempt faded into her number one emotion: foreboding. The she-cat wrapped her tail tighter around her two kits, one-moon-olds with few unclear memories their father.

 _I wonder if it'll storm on our tradition day this year._

She knew she was only trying to distract herself from the unwelcome feeling of apprehension. And she also knew that it was pointless.

"Scared?" asked a soft voice from the darker corner of the nursery.

"No, I'm so very excited that our Clanmates are going to war with a brutal Clan while we sit here doing nothing," Doestep snapped, before immediately regretting it. Blackpetal's two children of her four were also part of the attack. So was her mate, Whitefoot. Skypaw and Dovepaw, as the lastborn kits, were spared from it, but Dawnpaw and Splashpaw were less lucky.

"Yeah, you're scared." The black cat gave a soft noise— half wry laugh, half sigh. "I wish I could be out there with them too."

The she-cat felt a twinge of sympathy for her fellow queen. After giving birth to four kits, Blackpetal's body still had to recover.

"Flashstar wouldn't have sent those two out if they weren't skilled," she mewed in an attempt to comfort the other, but only received a snort in response.

"More like we've lost so many warriors that they're taking apprentices as filler."

One of Doestep's kits, Sootkit, squirmed. She licked the dark she-kit's forehead, noticing with a pang how much her child resembled Stormtuft. It brought back memories— namely, her most recent memory of them. The last time they were alone. Together.

 _"Stormy." She wrapped her tail around his as she came from the nursery to meet him, pressing against him and looking up into his broad face, which had been creased with worried wrinkles._

 _"Mmm... Yes, Doe?" He rested his chin on her head, whiskers tickling her ears._

 _"Promise me," she breathed, the words a mere whisper in the cool night air, "promise me you'll come back."_

 _The silence lasted for less than a fraction of a heartbeat before her mate's confident response. "Of course I'll come back. I'll always come back."_

 _"Forever?" She felt like a kitten, mewling plaintive questions._

 _There was no hesitation. "_ Forever _." He said the word slowly, carefully. "That's my promise from me to you."_

Doestep rocked back and forth, the motion comforting her the slightest bit. She stroked her kits with her cream tail.

 _Sootkit— your father's daughter. Oakkit— I suppose you take after me. Soon, this will be over, and Daddy will come back._

She wasn't sure how long it took, lost in listless thoughts, recollections both sweet and bitter and both at the same time.

 _Warrior, fair and true. Come home to me..._

 _You were always there..._

 _ALWAYS._

The tabby trembled, quivering as a sudden shock pinged inside her. And then all fell silent. The raging wind ceased to a soft gust of air. The thundering rain slowed to a _pitter-patter pitter-patter_.

There might even have been some sunlight.

She closed her eyes. A quiet rustle announced that Blackpetal was trodding over. A dark tail stroked her flank.

"Doestep..." What was that in her voice? As if the queen knew what was going to happen next... _Tell me, tell me,_ cried her heart. "Whatever happens next, remember that your kits need you."

Paws. Paws thumped on the earth, in a quick rhythm that matched the trickling raindrops. Crashing foliage, heavy breaths.

 _The warriors are here._

Doestep unfolded her limbs and got up, careful not to dislodge the kits too much, though they still gave mewls of protest.

She hurried into the camp clearing, water rippling onto her cream pelt. At the front of the ragged, blood-and-rain-soaked group was Flashstar. His head was held high, orbs shining with defiance.

"RiverClan. We won. Help the wounded to Lilysong's and cleanse the dead for burial."

Was that a stutter in his tone when he said _dead_? It couldn't be. An entire Clan'd have to die before their leader's voice would break.

The she-cat cast her gaze through the swarm of tired warriors, as she'd done so many times before, head turning to look for Stormtuft. She spotted a limp body, blood dribbling out of its mouth, and felt a flash of horror before seeing that it was a brown pelt, not gray. _Mouseclaw's gone._

"Stormy?" She hated the tremor in her mew, the way she couldn't get her volume past a shuddering whisper.

Pelts of familiar colors. Blue. Ginger. White. Calico. Out of the corner of her vision, Doestep could see two battered apprentices leaning on their scratchless littermates, eyes closed.

She walked briskly past the cats into the back of the group, cringing at the stench of death mingled with ThunderClan. Despite the rain stopping, rivulets of liquid were rolling down her forehead and blurring her sight. Blinded, the tabby stumbled forward and almost missed what she was looking for.

Sodden. Scarlet. Eyes pale. Glazed over. Mouth open. Wordless scream. Fury and hatred. Cold fur. Cold everything.

Doestep's mind barely processed what she was seeing. It managed to spew out a few fragmented thoughts, broken broken broken words.

Claws still unsheathed. Face still twisted in burning rage.

 _Cold everything_

 _No_ no _no no_ no

In and out, in and out, an inverse world that flipped over and suffocated her, erratic patterns of breathing and the world was crushing her and life was killing her and love was stabbing her right in the back

Couldn't go on anymore

There was no rhythm to her thoughts

Again and again and again

Why did this have to happen to her?

 _Mother, Firethorn_

 _Father, Graywhisker_

 _Stormy_

She gave a wretched cry, sobs choking in her throat as she buried her muzzle into the still body of Stormtuft, staring into his eyes, blank and staring into the dark sky.

"You promised me!" she screamed, yowling to the heavens, unaware or perhaps just unresponsive to the soothing murmurs of her Clanmates, because her love was gone gone gone and nothing nothing nothing would take his place ever

"You promised me you'd come back! I trusted you! _I trusted you!_ " She was suddenly wracked with a bout of coughing, and fell to a crouch on the sticky mud, rasping, "I'll never trust you again."

Lightning struck the sky in blue-and-white. Thunder responded with its own deep rumble and the leaf-fall storm started all over again.

"It's done, Stormy. I hate you. You broke your promise and I hate you."

Her Clanmates knew she was going mad, and they also knew there wasn't anything they could do to stop it.

Far above in Silverpelt, two spirits condemned to death that very day were thinking the exact same thing.

 _"It's over."_

Roseheart squeezed her eyes shut, tail wrapping around her legs as Emberfur gave the grim announcement. "They're over. She's too crazy to think straight. River's taking his soul and holding it captive to find out some information— like why he happened to choose the name Sootkit for his daughter. Even if they somehow meet again, Doestep will make sure they split up forever."

She dipped her head in quiet acknowledgement, ghostly heart pounding against her chest.

"And now... It's time for us to go." The once-ginger tom swiveled around on nimble paws, taking a step in the direction of where StarClan was gathered, tens of thousands of shimmering spirits waiting stonily for the two failed possessors to appear.

"One more minute," Roseheart pleaded, padding in from of him and holding him back with a paw pressed against— or maybe slightly through— the other's chest.

"What for? What's the point?" Emberfur stepped back with a small hiss. "I told you. Everything's done. We failed our task and will be punished accordingly."

"I need to talk," the she-cat insisted. "I have questions."

"We all have questions, but a good lot of them never get answered."

"Then answer mine." She stared into his eyes, which flickered with hints of amber from his living body before fading back to the normal starry white.

"Shoot. And be fast about it."

"Did it hurt when she hurt?"

"What?" The tom shifted his paws, the question clearly making him uncomfortable.

"When Doestep was..." Roseheart trailed off. "Did it hurt you?" She knew that she'd been absolutely agonized as she watched Mouseclaw face his death. The beat of his heart before it was cut short still reverberated in her mind.

Emberfur looked stiffly at her, expression guarded and face now betraying a single feeling. "No."

"There's no reason to lie. It's not like they can punish us further; for having emotions, no less."

"It didn't hurt. Hurry up."

She sighed softly, but obliged. "Did you tell them about your theory?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They wouldn't believe me anyway."

"But..."

"If that's all you have to ask, I'll be leaving." The once-ginger cat took another step forward, only to be stopped again. He gave a huff.

Roseheart felt a sense of fear creeping through her belly as the reality sunk in, hard as a rock. After this, she was going to _die_ forever. Her soul would be nonexistent; she would no longer be spoken of, until all that remained was a memory held by the oldest cats of StarClan.

"What do you think will happen next? After we..."

"Are killed," Emberfur finished for her, as if the thought of dying a second and last time didn't daunt him at all. "And I don't know. There's so many more mysteries that haven't been solved, so many lives that still need to be lived."

The she-cat accepted that answer. "That was all I had to say... I guess this is it."

"I will accept my death with the proud knowledge that, at least, I successfully completed my final task; eliminate Stormtuft, and return him to what he was always supposed to be— dead. And you?"

 _I don't want to die!_ was Roseheart's first thought, but she exhaled slowly and looked him square in the eye. "I will as well... I will go down with dignity."

The wind blew against their backs, whistling eerie tunes to serenade the day's execution. Emberfur stepped closer to the slightly smaller she-cat and the two spirits wasked together, in sync, both moving the same paw at the same time. Roseheart lifted her head to feel the breeze for one last time, to savor its mourning call that she would never hear again.

They looked at each other. Emberfur had a knowing look in his pale eyes, as if he knew exactly what the other was thinking.

 _This is the end. But we're going to the end together._

 _Refreshing..._

 _The first leaf-fall breeze whistling past your whiskers, tingling the roots of your fur and pounding in your bones._


End file.
